Summertime Revenge
by random fanfic writer
Summary: Ever wonder what happened after the events of Jagged Little Pill? How did Jimmy react to Sean and Ashley's hookup? Did Emma ever find out? What if instead of getting mad, Jimmy decided to get even with Sean Cameron? And tried to use Emma to do so?
1. The Party Jimmy POV

_**Summary: **Ever wonder what happened after Jagged Little Pill? How did Jimmy deal with Ashley and Sean's hookup? How did Emma find out? Did she ever find out? What was the fall out for Sean and Ash? For any season one fans who ever wondered how Jimmy, Emma, Sean and the rest spent the summer following Ashley's party - wonder know more. _

**A/N: ****Okay, for fans (assuming I have any) of my other story Second Chances have no fear . . . I will complete the story. However the recent influx of Emma/Jay fanfiction sorta sapped my inspiration. It's not abandoned - it's just on hold. For now hopefully this story will get you through the waiting period.**

"Jimmy, you just don't have what Sean has and you never will. You're just not enough for me. Sorry." Ashley's voice sounded anything but sorry. The knowledge that she was intoxicated did _nothing_ to stop the pain that gripped my chest and my entire body sagged under the weight. I turned away from the voice. "Oh and now you're upset. Don't be!" I shrugged the hand she put on my shoulder away roughly, disgust on my face. "It's ok. It is. It's all good, it is."

I walked away, out the door, anywhere but staying in the entryway of the Kerwin's house. I couldn't listen to another word. How could the girl that I thought loved me . . . that I loved . . . say these things? Drugs can only do so much. You don't ever lie when under the influence; you only speak the truths you'd like to keep hidden. For how long had Ashley felt this way?

As I left Ashley's house, a movement out of the corner of my eye drew my attention. On a small bench, I caught glimpse of Emma Nelson drying tears from her eyes across from Ash's step-brother Toby. Yet another casualty of Sean Cameron. I didn't know Emma well, but I had seen enough around school with her petitions and editorials to know that she was a strong girl. Smart, independent and confident, yet reduced to tears by that jerk. "_And your girlfriend," _a voice whispered, but I pushed that voice aside.

I heard movement behind me and knew Ash's front step was about to be flooded with people.

"Emma, want me to walk you home?" I asked reflexively. After all, if anyone felt the way I did about tonight it would be Emma. Yes, she had technically broken it off with Sean but all of DCS knew they were still crazy about each other. If anything, her trust must be shattered even more – at least I could blame the ecstasy. We were bonded by our partners' betrayal.

She looked surprised but nodded, turning away from Toby with a muttered thanks. Looking over her shoulder, I saw the crowd start to pool out of Ashley's house and pulled Emma by the elbow down the street, around the corner. I didn't want sympathy from them right now. I don't like people to pity me. I'm sure Emma felt the same way. She was strong. I was strong. I didn't need Ash. No one needed Sean.

Neither of us spoke for a while. Soon I realized that Emma couldn't speak if she had wanted to, still sniffling and crying.

Emma and I are not close friends. We're not even friends. But anyone who can see a girl cry and do nothing is not a gentleman. That person has no heart. We had reached a bus stop – just a covered bench really and I pulled her down onto it, literally offering a shoulder to cry on. She sat, but did not approach me, sitting stiffly, her eyes full of unshed tears, staring straight ahead into the night.

"Ummm, Emma, he's _not_ worth crying over," I tried to comfort her awkwardly.

"I flinch when he approaches me, did you know that? I know that getting in between a fight is stupid. I know that he would never hurt me intentionally. And yet he did. And I flinch. It's a reflex." Tears streamed from both her cheeks, but her voice never wavered and held surprisingly little emotion. It was monotone, like a robot. "And every time I flinch I see the hurt in his eyes." Now, the hitch came. "And I don't want to hurt him . . . so I try and stay away . . . and that hurts me." Emma was openly sobbing now and I was afraid to move closer or to put my arm around her for fear that she might completely collapse. I had never seen Emma Nelson, DCS crusader, look _fragile_ before.

She wiped her tears on the cuff of her sleeve. "And then I get upset cause other times he acts like he doesn't care. Like he's the Sean Cameron from the beginning of the year. Without a care in the world. Then I try and hurt him on purpose. Like this morning. And I'm always surprised when it works. So I feel guilty."

I interrupted now, my anger at Sean overpowering my other senses. Yes, Ash had said hurtful things without his prompting or even real knowledge, but Sean had given her the ecstasy. Sean had been sober and taken advantage of her upstairs. Sean had reduced Emma to this mess sitting next to me.

"You have _nothing_ to feel guilty for Emma. You are not responsible for Sean's temper or low self esteem. You are not responsible for reflexes you have no control over around someone who hurt you!" I was standing now, so vehement in my anger I couldn't remain seated. "And you definitely didn't force Sean to go upstairs with Ashley tonight!"

"What!" When I looked down at her I was surprised to see she was laughing, dabbing at her eyes. "Sean and Ash? Now I know you're having fun with me! I appreciate you trying to help, but Ashley would never 'go upstairs' at a party with any boy, let alone Sean! She loves you." Her voice had regained the 'know-it-all' tone that marked her as Emma Nelson.

I sat down, suddenly tired, anger flooding out of my body and being replaced with hurt. "She _loved_ me. Or at least I thought she did."

Emma's laughter took on a note of hysterics as she shook her head. "No, that can't happen. Sean tried to apologize to me. Before I went outside. I wouldn't listen – then he left, not long before you came out. There wasn't time; you have to be wrong."

Her eyes pleaded with me to tell her I was lying, so I looked down at my hands. "Emma, I thought you knew. I thought that was why you are upset." I looked back up to see her once again misting up. "He left because he knew I was coming after him. He was upstairs with Ashley in her room. Both of their hair was mussed and Ashley," my voice caught, but I refused to cry, especially in front of a Grade 7. "Ashley's bra was out of place."

Emma's eyes grew wide before she threw herself at me, I caught her and held her till her body stilled, whispering "I thought you knew." I'm not sure whether I was trying to comfort her or assuage my own guilt.

I felt like crap. So much for the connected by betrayal idea. I could have spared this girl a lot of heartbreak, but instead I had thrown this at her when already at her weakest. Some gentleman!

After a few minutes, Emma's tears slowed and then stopped. She sat up slowly, looking at me. "Please . . . don't tell anyone about this," she whispered, looking up at me with big brown eyes.

Like I wanted everyone to know I went around making girls cry. "Deal." I smiled at her. "How about I walk you home now?"

The rest of the walk home was silent, until we turned onto Degrassi Street and stopped in front of Emma's house.

"Nice house. I love the porch," I commented resting on her big swing. Porches were cozy. Porches meant family. Unlike apartments which meant cold pizza and lonely nights.

Emma plopped next to me with a sigh. "Yeah, Sean and I would sit here and just watch the stars sometimes. We didn't even need to talk; we could just sit together and be happy. You know, if he knew _you_ were here with _me_ now . . ." Emma's voice trailed off. When she spoke again she was unable to hide the bitterness that belays her words. "Well, I guess he wouldn't be upset, would he? He's moved on."

"Emma, forget him." I repeated, trying to avoid the water works.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, trying valiantly to stop from breaking down again. "I never cry. Maybe once a year. But never like this. It's just . . . I broke up with him, Jimmy. Why is he the one making out with girls at a party while I'm the one falling apart?" She sobbed.

"Because you love him." Simple and to the point.

"Why won't he love me?" Her voice was haunting, but calm. Emma looked at me shyly, eyes wide, as if realizing what she had just said. "Thanks for the escort home." And with that she disappeared into the house leaving her words before I could tell her that in spite of everything, I was pretty sure he still did.

I swung on the swing a while longer, the events of the evening replaying in my mind. With every image of Ash's rumpled hair my hurt and anger grew. I pushed the hurt aside, as much as I could, not wanting or able, really, to deal with what her rejection meant. Leaving me with thoughts solely about Sean Cameron and what he had done. It was one thing to fight with me. It was another thing to go after my girlfriend. Who was under the influence. Even if it hadn't been Ashley, who takes advantage of a girl that was high? _But it had been Ashley._

I remembered her cute jealousy over Paige being Juliet. The night we blew up condom balloons, just content to be in each others company, no pressure to do anything that neither of us was ready for. All the times she had saved me from loneliness by inviting me into her family, even if not always willingly. Sean had taken her from me, just as easily as the e had. Sean was in fact responsible for the e, as well. A little payback was in order.

"_If he knew you were here with me now . . ."_ Emma's voice drifted into my mind unbidden. What exactly _would_ Mr. Cameron say if there was to be a little quid pro quo? You steal my girlfriend . . . ?

"_Why won't he love me?" _Emma's voice sharply reminded me that they were no longer dating. But I didn't think _that_ of all things would be an issue. Hadn't Emma also said that _"I try and hurt him on purpose. And I'm always surprised when it works."_ No surprise to me, he was obviously still in love with her, taking advantage of Ashley notwithstanding.

After tonight I knew _exactly_ how it felt to see the girl you loved kissing your worst enemy. And how much pain it could cause Mr. Sean Hope Cameron. How much worse would it be if that girl actually _loved_ your worst enemy? The beginnings of a plan started hatching in my brain.

"_Jimmy, you just don't have what Sean has and you never will!"_ You so sure about that Ashley? Because sitting on that porch swing, I resolved to make Sean's Emma mine by the end of the summer. The look on his face would make it all worth it. Ignoring the little voice that whispered that it wouldn't make the hurt go away, I started for home, thinking up excuses to return to Ms. Nelson's the very next day.


	2. The Morning After Emma POV

Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi or any of its characters.

A/N: Hope this was worth the wait - hopefully more will be forthcoming sooner rather than later, but I never know what's going to happen.

"_Emma can we talk, please?" I heard him call out to me as I turned abruptedly. Toby's seemingly small house had grown overnight or so it seemed, I couldn't get away from him, no matter which way I turned._

"_There's nothing to talk about," I denied shaking my head, trying desperately to find an open door to escape into . . . an open hole in the ground to swallow me._

"_Emma you're not being fair." I ignored the emotion in his voice as I finally found an outlet out of the house of pain, down the stairs._

"_Sean you went too far. We're over! As in finished!" I stumbled down the stairs. As I ran away, Sean's words caught up with me. "You're not being fair." How much of what I was feeling now was fair? How much was genuine hurt and how much was just my stubborn need to deny that I might be wrong? Was losing Sean worth being right? I stopped dead in my tracks, causing Manny to bump into me slightly. I hadn't realized she was right behind me._

"_What's the matter?" She asked, concerned. Manny was ever the attentive friend, a better friend than I deserved._

"_I need to go back upstairs," I whispered hurriedly. If I didn't go now, I might lose my nerve and never go._

"_Did you forget something up there?" she asked my retreating form._

_A smile played upon my lips. "Something like that, Manny."_

_I climbed the stairs before gazing around the landing nervously. The door to Toby's room was open and I could hear them arguing about something, blocked by the bunk beds. The bathroom door swung wide open, no one was in there. Where could Sean be?_

_I heard a moaning sound from the room next to me and turned the door handle slowly. "Sean?" I asked timidly._

_Glancing in, it was not difficult to see this was Ashley Kerwin's room. Many pictures at various school events, awards for academic excellence, plaques and trophies all filled the room. And Ashley herself was on her bed. Being kissed senselessly by the boy I had come upstairs to find. To come upstairs to apologize to. To come upstairs to kiss the way that she was doing as we spoke._

_I guess the squeaky noise that came next must have come from me, because they both looked over to the doorway shocked._

"_Emma, I'm so sorry," Ashley said, standing quickly and smoothing her rumpled clothes and tousled hair. "I don't know what came over me. I love Jimmy. I'm so sorry!"_

_I didn't even look at her staring in shock at Sean on the bed. He made no move to get up, just lounging in place. "I'm not." His voice was firm as he sat up. "I don't need any stubborn, stuck up, too good for me girls . . . I'm glad you found out now rather than later."_

_I closed my eyes, but the image stayed with me. No matter how hard I shook my head I couldn't get rid of the image. "Why? Why, Sean? Why won't you love me?" I whined._

My entire body spasmed and with a jolt I was awake, sitting straight up. It had only been a dream. I lay back down, shivering, despite the warm June sun streaming through my window. Only a dream . . .

"_I thought you knew," _Jimmy's voice invaded my thoughts, bringing back the actual pain of last night which my dream had merely adapted to fit a different situation.

'_Pull back from Toby, Emma,'_ my conscience warned me as soon as Sean's footsteps could no longer be heard on the driveway. I knew that it was unfair to clutch Toby the way I was now, knowing that he was crushing on me, but seeing Sean standing there looking so sad - defeated really - having him catch me crying for him, was too much. I needed a barrier and Toby was there. If Sean had apologized, catching me at my weakest, most vulnerable, I would have caved and that would have meant . . . _that you would be with the boy you loved even if you had to admit that you were wrong?_ I shoved that thought aside in my head as I physically pushed away from Toby.

I dried my eyes with the cuff of my jean jacket, not caring how it looked. Toby took a deep breath and almost started to finish whatever speech Sean had interrupted when movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Jimmy Brooks met my gaze; he was staring at me.

"Emma, want me to walk you home?" he asked quickly. Okay, so that was about the _last_ thing I expected him to say. My utter shock must have showed on my face, cause Jimmy started to turn away as I found myself nodding 'yes.' I needed to get away from Toby before I led him on any further tonight.

"Thanks for . . ." I left the sentence unfinished as I left Toby, but he smiled as if it was the most gracious thank you he had ever received. If it was possible, I felt even lower than I had a moment ago. I had to jog to keep up with Jimmy's strides as we ducked through the hedges that marked the Kerwin residence. Suddenly, his hand was at my elbow and he was pulling me down the street and around the corner. His actions didn't surprise me as much as mine. Lately whenever anyone touched me, I stiffened and flinched, and when I said anyone, I meant Sean. But with Jimmy, I just followed his lead trying to match my long legs to his even longer strides.

A practical stranger drags you down an empty street late at night and you're fine, but the boy you love touches your hand and you flinch? How psychotic is that Emma? My inner voice sounded cruel, but I couldn't help but think not undeservedly, when I remembered the last look Sean had given me. That look of longing and desperation. That look that said, "I messed up, but please, God, let me fix it." And I had turned away from that.

I couldn't stop the tears from returning, although with the pace Jimmy was setting I didn't have the breath to out and out sob as I had earlier. The crying and speed-walking eventually caught up with me and my breathing became audible. Jimmy must have notice, because he slowed and then led me over to a bench to rest.

Embarrassed, I wouldn't look at him. A popular Grade 8 offers you a walk home and you can't even keep up. You're such a charity case. I stopped crying, trying to clear my head of any thought. Especially when I noticed that the bench faced the park Sean and I had visited so many times. The park we had walked through just last week. Why couldn't I just forgive him?

As if he could read a warped version of my thoughts, Jimmy broke the silence. "Um, Emma, he's _not_ worth crying over," he said, his voice trying to hide the disdain he felt for Sean and failing – miserably.

I stole a glance at him, briefly. He looked so lost, trying so hard to do the right thing. I guess that's why I couldn't help what happened next. "I flinch when he approaches me, did you know that? I know that getting in between a fight is stupid. I know that he would never hurt me intentionally. And yet he did. And I flinch. It's a reflex." I was reciting this like a report but I couldn't stop. It was like everything I had been holding in suddenly leaked out. And once it did I couldn't stop the words from flowing out faster. "And every time I flinch I see the hurt in his eyes." Somehow, as I spoke, a golf ball had become lodged in my throat. It hurt to swallow and my voice cracked. I wasn't embarrassed, though. I was beyond that, full of remembering and pain. "And I don't want to hurt him . . . so I try and stay away . . . and that hurts me." I felt a tear splash on my leg, followed by another one. The tears had also broken through, with my words.

I angrily wiped at the tears with my sleeve, as I remembered all the times that Sean looked past me. "And then I get upset cause other times he acts like he doesn't care. Like he's the Sean Cameron from the beginning of the year. Without a care in the world. Then I try and hurt him on purpose." I remembered this morning and Sean's face as I said _"Especially boys named Sean."_ My anger dissipated as I remembered _I _was the one who had caused all of this and I just deflated. "Like this morning. And I'm always surprised when it works. So I feel guilty."

I don't know how long my stream of consciousness cycle of hurt would have gone on if Jimmy hadn't interrupted, standing abruptly as he looked at me. "You have _nothing_ to feel guilty for Emma. You are not responsible for Sean's temper or low self esteem. You are not responsible for reflexes you have no control over around someone who hurt you! And you definitely didn't force Sean to go upstairs with Ashley tonight!"

I let out a snort that could have passed as a laugh. The genuine good-hearted intentions of Jimmy's rant had been lost in the ridiculousness of his last line. "What!" I wiped the tears away openly giggling as I tried to process his odd joke. "Sean and Ash? Now I know you're having fun with me! I appreciate you trying to help, but Ashley would never 'go upstairs' at a party with any boy, let alone Sean! She loves you." Somehow, through Jimmy's sense of humor I had found myself again. Unorthodox perhaps but Jimmy Brooks was allowing me to pull myself together.

My lighthearted mood vanished as quickly as it had arrived as Jimmy collapsed, falling down into the bench next to me. "She _loved_ me." Jimmy stressed the past tense. "Or at least I thought she did."

I shook my head, this couldn't be happening! No possible way. I was surprised to find myself still laughing – or at least it sounded like me, as I began to babble. "No, that can't happen. Sean tried to apologize to me. Before I went outside. I wouldn't listen – then he left, not long before you came out. There wasn't time; you have to be wrong."

I looked at him desperately trying to believe him to be capable of a cruel joke, but he just looked away. "Emma, I thought you knew. I thought that was why you are upset." Suddenly the random Grade 8 offer of a walk home made sense. He pitied me. Poor pitiful Emma who can't keep a boy interested. Poor, pitiful Emma, whose evil boyfriend seduced the one he loved. "He left because he knew I was coming after him. He was upstairs with Ashley in her room. Both of their hair was mussed and Ashley," Jimmy's voice caught and for an instant he looked less like a Grade 8 bully and more like a lost little boy. "Ashley's bra was out of place."

I crashed back into reality as the sickening words once again echoed in my brain. So much for that whole 'it was a dream' vibe. It was a nightmare-come-true. Jimmy had barely said anything the rest of the way home, not that I could blame him – he was a stranger and I had cried all over him. It was a good thing it was summer . . . because there is no way I could have gone to school. Not only had I killed any sympathy Jimmy had had for me, but the way he talked everyone knew.

Everyone else knew that Sean, _my_ Sean had helped break up Degrassi's power couple. I couldn't stand the idea that people pitied me. I would walk over hot coals before deal with pity in someone else's eyes. I'm not pitiful; I am strong.

_Why won't he love me?_ My own voice taunted me. Okay, maybe last night had been a _little_ pitiful, but today was a whole new ball game. Today I would be strong.

I bounded out of bed and stuck my tongue out at my reflection in the mirror. "Sean who?" I asked defiantly.

"EMMA?" my mother's voice floated up to me.

"COMING MOM!" I shouted downstairs. I quickly debated throwing a sweatshirt on over my pajamas or running a brush through my hair, but decided against it. 'I'm allowed to veg today,' I thought smiling slightly.

"EM!" Spike's voice was more urgent now.

I ran out of her room, "I said 'Coming!' What's the ru-uh . . ." I stopped suddenly on the stairs my voice leaving me. Standing there at my front door, looking like the varsity jock that he was, I saw Jimmy Brooks. And I was wearing my duckie pajamas, my hair sticking up in random places. Perfect. Just perfect.

I resisted the urge to shriek and run up stairs, but just barely. "Jimmy, I didn't expect to see you . . ." I forced myself to say kindly.

"I didn't mean to wake you up, Emma. I'm sorry to interrupt Ms. Nelson; I'll just go." His voice couldn't conceal his embarrassment.

For some reason, I suddenly didn't want him to go. While seeing him did remind me of the night before, it also reassured me. If I was completely pathetic last night, he wouldn't have come back. And he had to be hurting over Ashley – the very _least_ I could do is offer to listen the way he did for me.

"Wait!" I called out, my mom and Jimmy both turning abruptly at the volume level in my voice. I blushed. 'Now what, Emma?' "You didn't wake me at all; I was just working on . . ." school was over, think of something, think of something . . . "something." LAME! "Give me 20 minutes and you'll forget all about, uh, this," I made a vague movement with my hand to indicate the disaster that was me.

Jimmy nodded muttering under his breath something about "not forgetting" and I scrambled up the stairs. I risked a quick glance in the mirror to verify I did indeed look as horrifying as I had thought. Unfortunately, the clumps of hair at odd angles and large yellow duck shorts were still present. Not to mention that the matching tiny tank top clearly showed that while I may have gotten my period, the rest of puberty was slow in arriving.

Ignoring all the evil thoughts passing through my mind ranging from why would he care, to why was he even _here,_ I set a record for the world's shortest shower. I briefly debated over what to wear before deciding that any chance of impressing Jimmy was long gone. After this morning and last night . . . I quickly grabbed a pair of blue jeans and a pink tank top. Running a comb through my tangled hair I once again bounded down the stairs.

Jimmy was sitting on my couch flipping through a magazine . . . the latest issue of Seventeen, I noticed with a cringe. Manny must have left it when we went to Toby's. 'Really, Emma, you've spent time one on one with Jimmy for less than 12 hours and the Seventeen is the _least_ embarrassing part of that time.'

"I'm sorry about that. I thought the first day of summer was a good time for a bit of a lie in," I explained.

Jimmy looked up and dropped the magazine like a hot potato. _How to Get the Girl of Your Dreams_ was splayed across the page in pink bubbly writing. Poor Jimmy . . . resorting to a magazine to try and get Ashley back.

"Yeah, I should have thought before coming over here. I'm sor-" I held up a hand, cutting off Jimmy's apology.

"Don't, please," I replied hastily.

"Right." Jimmy pulled back and smiled in a way that looked almost nervous. "I just wanted to check up on you, you know, after last night."

I caught a glimpse of my mother in the kitchen. I couldn't be sure, but she seemed to have paused in her emptying of the dishwasher. The clank of glasses hitting each other had _definitely_ diminished.

"Umm, you want to go out to breakfast or something?" I said impulsively.

"Emma, it's almost 12:30," he looked downright bewildered.

"Right." I blushed. "Lunch then? Brunch?"

Jimmy finally must have caught the direction of my glance to where it rested on my mother. "Ahh." He nodded. "That's why I came over, actually, Emma. A bunch of us are going to the Dot. We thought you might want to come too. It's a graduation sort of thing for the Grade 8's . . . telling all you young ones how to handle running Degrassi." Jimmy had made his voice louder and looked pointedly at the kitchen a couple of times, indicating he knew my mother was listening.

"That sounds great," I followed suit with the loud voice, but my enthusiasm was completely authentic. I felt a rush of gratitude for him. I've had maybe two conversations with him my whole life and he was helping keep my secrets?

"Mom, I'm going to go to the Dot with friends," I called into the kitchen.

"Just make sure you're at Joey's at 5:30 to watch Angela. You promised, Em!" My mother reminded me as she came to the kitchen doorframe.

"Mo-om," I admonished giving her 'the look.' Really, let's let a new friend know that my Friday nights consist of going to a party where my ex hooks up with the host and my Saturdays involve me and the four year old girl down the street. 'Like a four year old boy would be any better, Em?' my inner voice taunted. Ewww. I so needed to get a life.

As I walked back toward the living room, I remembered how most weekend nights had been spent recently . . . a movie and a pizza sprawled with Sean on the very couch that now held one of the most popular grade 8's trying not to look bored out of his mind.

I had a brief flash of "what the hell are you doing?" before grabbing my sweatshirt. If someone had told me yesterday that I'd be spending my Saturday with a heartbroken Jimmy Brooks, I would have had laughed out loud. But here he was and as awkward as it might be between me and Jimmy, he had helped me last night – er, tried to anyway and damned if I was going to be rude enough not to return the favor. So awkward or not, if he wanted to talk about Ashley and rant about Sean, I would listen . . . even if every word would continue to pierce my heart.


End file.
